


God Don't Make Lonely Girls

by pressdbtwnpages



Category: Jonas Brothers, Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-26
Updated: 2010-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressdbtwnpages/pseuds/pressdbtwnpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe and Taylor reconnect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	God Don't Make Lonely Girls

**Author's Note:**

> This was canon-compliant when I wrote it. Unbetaed. Title cribbed from The Wallflowers.

Taylor hears about the tape from Selena, who calls her sounding choked up.

"I know I shouldn't care. It's none of my business, but it's _Demi_ and I do care. I hate that she did it and that it's out and that I can't call her and see if she's alright."

And Taylor says, "Did what?"

She's been recording for the last week or so, keeping herself sequestered with her songs and her guitars.

"There's, um." Selena clears her throat. "Video circulating around the internet. Of Demi and Trace Cyrus. Having sex."

"Oh no!" Taylor says, and her thoughts unintentionally fly to Joe. She wonders if he'll stand by Demi, support her the way he never supported Taylor. "Poor Demi. But, wasn't Demi and Trace, like, two years ago?"

"Um." Selena says. "That's the thing. It. It's obviously a new tape. Like. A couple of months old."

Taylor doesn't want to know how it's obvious. Or why Selena knows it. "But if it's new then... oh. Poor Joe."

Selena lets out a long exhale. "Yeah. And they're on tour together."

Taylor can't help it, she starts laughing. "Karmic."

*

She feels bad about laughing, thinks vaguely about Joe all day. It has to suck being cheated on this publicly. Especially with Demi and Joe being as off-and-on as they are. And the sex thing on top of it. Yeah, Joe ripped out her heart and then put it on display for the whole world to see, but Taylor's a compassionate girl, she can call the guy up, lend her support.

The thing is, every time she goes to call Joe's number, her hands start shaking for some reason. Taylor wonders if maybe she needs to start taking some kind of vitamin. Finally, she just looks up the Jonas tour, figures out when Joe will be on stage, and leaves a voicemail.

*

Taylor doesn't expect anything to come of the message she left Joe, is prepared for Joe's continued failure to respond to phone calls to be yet another reason he's a jerk and starts to consider changing her support to team Demi.

And then she gets a text. It's just a quick "thanks" and a strangely detailed emoticon, but Joe's only been off stage for 20 minutes. Taylor is touched.

"Of course," she sends in a reply. "Anything I can do."

They start texting regularly after that, Joe telling her about silly things he sees on the road or embarrassing fan signs. Taylor mostly finds various ways of asking how he's doing.

*

About a week after Demi's sextape leaks, Joe calls Taylor. It's not crazy late, but it's late enough for Taylor to be surprised that someone is calling.

"Joe?" she asks sleepily.

"Oh," he says quickly, "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

Taylor turns on her bedside light and runs a hand through her hair. "It's fine," she says. "What's up?"

"Are you sure?" Joe asks, sounding wary, like maybe Taylor's next hit song is going to be about a rude boy who calls too late. It's not a bad idea, actually. Taylor grabs a pen and her writing notebook and jots it down.

"It's really okay, Joe," she says firmly. "What can I do for you?"

Joe sighs. "I need your help."

"Oh?"

"I want, need, whatever, would like to write a song about Demi and all of this. We've been writing, Nick, Kevin, and I, but Nick's lyrics keep coming out, just, really _mean_."

Taylor smiles softly. "Nick's feeling a little bit betrayed too, huh?"

"I think he's taking it worse than I am," Joe snorts. "The thing is, I'm not mad. Well, I mean, I am mad. I'm angry and hurt and betrayed and bitter, but, mostly I'm just so, so sad, Taylor. I don't understand what I did wrong. Why I wasn't good enough. That's the song I want to write and perform."

"You thought it was forever and always, huh?" Taylor asks wryly, poking fun at the both of them.

"Yeah," Joe admits. "And since we've been talking. I was thinking. Well, you're really good at writing mean songs that don't sound that mean, you know? Demi cheated on me and humiliated me, I don't want to be the bad guy."

Taylor's outright grinning now. "You want me to help you write a song about how Demi cheated on you with a giant skeezball, made a sextape, somehow got it leaked, totally humiliated basically the entire Walt Disney Corporation, and you don't want it to sound mean?"

"Thanks for that, Taylor. Really."

"Anytime."

"But. Yes. That is what I'd like. If you'd. I know I have no right to ask anything from you but -"

It's nice to hear Joe groveling. Unprompted, even. But. "It's really okay. We're friends, right? And friends write songs together?"

"Really? Taylor, thank you so much."

"Of course. When and where are you free?"

"It's probably a bad idea for you to come hang out on tour, but, uh, we'll be in Nashville next week. Maybe we can get lunch or something, brainstorm?"

"That sounds nice, Joe." Taylor can't stop smiling. She'd forgotten how much she really really likes Joe when he's not being an insensitive arrogant jerk.

The next day, a boquet of a dozen white roses is waiting for Taylor at the studio. There's a card with them that reads "Friends? - J" and Taylor doesn't know what she's doing, something dumb, probably, but she can't stop smiling all day.

*

She's supposed to be meeting Joe at a restaurant in town in 45 minutes, but Taylor's just staring at the contents of her closet trying figure out what to wear. She doesn't want Joe getting any ideas. That just because they're both single doesn't mean anything is going to happen. But she also doesn't want to totally close that door. Or be strictly business. Meeting up with Joe is just so complicated, it's a lot to rest on the shoulders of a sundress.

Taylor ends up running out the door barely ready, only wearing powder on her face, hair in a messy braid.

Joe's waiting when she finally makes it to the restaurant. He looks good, scruffy and disheveled wearing a plaid flannel shirt over a white undershirt. It's a good thing Taylor is totally, completely over him or her mouth might water just a little bit.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologizes as Joe stands.

"No problem," Joe brushes a kiss to the side of her face. Taylor freezes for a second, drops her purse with a thud and sits gracelessly.

"Um. So. How. Uh," Taylor shrugs helplessly, knowing she's asking a stupid question but asking anyway, "How are you?"

"I'm. You know," Joe shrugs back at her and makes a face. "I really think it will help, just getting the words out."

Taylor nods. "I can relate. When we talked you said you wanted to write something sort of sweet and sad, do you have a theme or anything?"

Their waiter appears before Joe can answer to take their drink orders. After, Taylor picks up the menu, skimming it. She pretty much already knows what she wants. She usually does.

"I don't know what to say," Joe says behind Taylor's menu. He sounds conflicted. "I don't know if there are words for hurting like this."

Taylor drops her menu and reaches out to squeeze Joe's hand.

"Write that," she commands. "That's beautiful. A song about what to say when there are no words."

"When all the words have been stolen," Joe adds faintly.

Taylor lets go of Joe's hand to rummage in her bag for the small notepad she keeps stashed in her purse. She hands it and a pen to Joe.

He starts scribbling and then stops abruptly.

Joe looks up at her helplessly. "Now what?"

"I think I'm supposed to ask you that," Taylor smiles gently. It's hard not to be kind to Joe when he's all soft and vulnerable like this. "What now, Joe? What are you going to do about the girl who stole your words?"

Joe writes something down. He bites the end of Taylor's pen and then resumes writing. He scratches most of it out, an angry slashing x that tears the page.

"I was on to something. It was at the back of my brain, but then I lost it."

"Relax," Taylor tells him as their waiter brings their cokes and asks to take their orders. "It will come."

The waiter walks away and Joe sighs, frustrated. His whole faces is tense with it and Taylor wants to smooth it all away.

Joe stares off into middle distance, twisting a paper napkin with nervous tension.

"I don't know how to help you," Taylor says. "I'm sorry."

Joe looks back at her. "I'm sorry I don't know how to be helped."

Taylor gestures at the notepad. At his confused look she clarifies, "Write it."

Joe does so obediently. Still looking at the pad of paper he asks, "Was it like this for you?"

Part of Taylor wants to lie. Say 'Yes! Now you know how it feels! Ha!' But more of her wants to help her hurting friend. "No, I don't think so. It wasn't a surprise, you know? I still don't know what went wrong, but I saw it coming. We both did."

Joe nods. "The surprise of it sucks. We were fine. I thought we were fine. But she wasn't getting everything she needed from me."

"And the whole world knows it," Taylor says quietly.

"Yeah."

This time Taylor doesn't have to prompt him, Joe starts writing on his own.

"I don't know how to get through this. I don't know what the light at the end of the tunnel is. I thought it was her," Joe says as he writes. "I don't know how to come back from this."

Taylor doesn't know what to say to that, so she stays quiet. After a moment Joe slides the pad across to her.

"Wanna look?"

Taylor skims his chicken scratch. They've come up with some good stuff, just talking for fifteen minutes.

"I think we might have two or three different songs here," she tells him. "I like this line, 'I thought you were the light, turns out you were the tunnel'."

"Two or three songs?" Joe asks, leaning towards the notepad, towards Taylor.

"The 'Song Without Words' song, and maybe an 'I Don't Know' song, and maybe the tunnel stuff is a third song?"

Joe snorts, "I don't know if I have that much anger."

Taylor snorts right back at him. He looks slightly surprised. "Of course you do."

Joe smiles a small smile. "Yeah. I totally do."

He takes back the notepad and writes 'I don't know if I have that much anger'. Taylor beams at him. He's catching on.

"Another 'I Don't Know'," She observes.

"Yeah," Joe agrees. "So what are you thinking? 'I don't know if there are words for hurting like this, I don't know what that the light of the tunnel is, I don't know how to come back from this, I don't know if I have that much anger'?"

"Something like that," Taylor agrees. "I don't know how to put it all together, yet. Maybe it's just a chorus?"

Joe writes down 'I don't know how to put it all together yet' and Taylor laughs.

Their meals arrive and Joe puts the pad aside with obvious reluctance.

As he digs into his food, Joe says, "Sorry, Taylor. I've been so absorbed with everything, I don't think I've even asked how you are."

Taylor chokes down her mouthful of food. "I'm fine, Joe. Thanks for asking."

"I was glad you called. Surprised, but, really glad."

Taylor smiles. "I don't know what made me do it, but I'm really glad too."

They finish their meals making friendly conversation, though Joe is obviously reluctant to leave. It's fine with Taylor, she's in no rush.

Over coffee Joe's face stiffens slightly, into an entirely too familiar mask. Taylor sighs. She doesn't want to know what's shut him down.

He leans back, away from her, though he'd had his elbows on the table waving his hands moments before.

"Joe?"

"There's a guy with a camera outside," Joe says. "Not like a tourist. I'm pretty sure we've been spotted."

Taylor shrugs. Paparazzi aren't common in Tennessee, but they aren't entirely unheard of. "We're friends. Having a working lunch."

Joe's mask slips at that. "You don't mind?"

"Being seen with you?" Taylor teases. "Not really. I get why it's awkward for you, though. Should we go?"

Taylor can see Joe calculating the pros and cons. He wants to stay, she knows, but isn't sure the controversy is worth it. She pities him, misses the carefree boy she used to know, who was content to let other people pick up the pieces.

Taking mercy on him, Taylor picks up her purse and puts some money down on the table. "Give me a call. We can write over the phone."

"Taylor," Joe says. She looks at him. "At least let me buy you lunch?"

She shakes her head, smiling. "Working lunch, Jonas. Not a date."

And then she walks away. She's pretty proud of herself.

*

Taylor's management calls her, asking if there's something she wants them to tell the press about the photos circulating of her and Joe Jonas looking cozy.

"Working lunch. We're friends. Like. Really friends, not air-quotes friends."

Her manager 'mmhmms' a lot and Taylor wants to argue the point, but doesn't want to protest too much.

She's tempted to go online, see what kind of flack Joe is getting for being seen with her so soon after Demi. Instead she texts Joe.

 _Just got grilled by manager. Sorry if you're getting grief_

He texts back _you free? wanna write?_

Taylor calls him.

*

They put the final touches on "Song Without Words" while the Jonas Brothers tour is in L.A., but Joe doesn't want to play it for the first time there. Not where the shows are full of press and casual acquaintances wishing the worst for him.

He invites Taylor to Seattle to see him play it live, to hear how the song is received.

She thanks him profusely, touched to be asked, but refuses. "Song Without Words" is going to be controversial enough without her being spotted at the show. Besides, it won't be hard to catch on youtube later.

Joe calls moments after he gets off stage.

"It was so great!" He shouts into the phone. "They loved it!"

Taylor grins. It's a good song and she's proud of it, but it's nice to know that people like it too.

It's too loud on his end to really hear him, but he sounds up, happy and excited. Taylor's proud of him.

*

There's video up the next day.

Joe performed the song acoustically, just him and a guitar, his brothers and band standing behind him and watching.

"So, this is a song I wrote with a friend," Joe says uncomfortably. "No one's heard it yet, but, I'd like to play it for you now."

The screams are deafening until Joe interrupts, strumming the opening chords.

In their master plan, Joe and Taylor have written an intricate, finely wrought piece with horns and harps. She's not sure it isn't better like this.

Joe leans out over his guitar to sing to the audience. His face is open, vulnerable the way he was when he came to see her in Nashville.

He does beautifully. The crowd reaction is overwhelming, and Taylor envies Demi a little bit, for being what brought this song out in Joe.

She's still a little bit teary when she calls Joe to congratulate him.

"It was beautiful," she says when he answers.

"Are you crying?"

She sighs a little. "You did a really really good job performing 'Song Without Words'."

"You're crying over a youtube video?" Joe asks in disbelief.

"Just take the compliment, Joe," Taylor snaps affectionately.

"Thanks, Taylor," he says sincerely. "I'm really glad I did it justice."

"You did." After a moment, Taylor can't control her burning curiosity and asks. "So? Did Demi hear it? Has she said anything?"

"I don't know," Joe tells her. He doesn't sound disappointed. "I haven't seen her. But, you know, it doesn't matter. The song has always been more about me, and you, than her."

"I'm proud of you, Joe."

"Thanks. So, are you free? Do you want to work on the tunnel song?"

*

Over six months, Joe and Taylor collaborate on three songs that the Jonas Brothers end up incorporating into their repertoire. When they've finished writing those, Taylor and Joe keep talking. They end up working on another song.

It is a little bit country, a little bit rock 'n roll and they call it "Osmond" because they are both dorks at heart. The project gets a lot of press, which Taylor finds weird until she realizes that she hasn't really been associated with "Song Without Words", "I Don't Know", and "Tunnel Vision". Joe credits "a friend" every time he performs them, which Taylor appreciates though it isn't necessary, but the songs haven't been published yet.

Joe and Taylor are invited to debut the song at the American Music Awards. They spend the week before hanging out, practicing until their fingers bleed and their throats ache and then running out to the pool to dunk each other and swim the stress out.

It's great, being friends with Joe. He's funny and kind and clever. Taylor's satisfied with friendship, she really is. But sometimes, when he gets tired and she brushes the hair out of his eyes, or they're playing in the pool and he picks her up, hands on bare hips, a familiar attraction crackles between them.

*

It's not like Taylor didn't know that Joe Jonas cleans up nice. But in his charcoal suit, he looks, like, well, Prince Charming.

And when they're singing together, the words they wrote together, looking into each others eyes, Taylor forgets everything but them and their music.

Joe does too, she knows, because as the last notes of music start to fade, he reaches for her hand, pulls her close, leans in, and kisses her gently.

The crowd roars with applause, and Taylor and Joe take a bow hands still clasped.

Taylor is numb as they walk off stage. She feels like she should let go of Joe's hand, but he's not letting go either. She isn't surprised by the kiss, by the circumstances maybe, but in retrospect it seems inevitable.

Backstage, she and Joe wander through the rush of people, Taylor's mind mostly blank.

In a well-lit corridor, she glances over at Joe.

"Come here," she instructs him, reaching up with her free hand to wipe her lipgloss off of his lips.

"Thanks," Joe says quietly. "Taylor. I."

Taylor doesn't want to hear it. She doesn't want to know that Joe thinks the kiss was a mistake, that they're better off as friends or not even that.

She starts to let go of Joe's hand, but he squeezes tighter, tugs her closer and wraps his free arm around her. "I think I want this."

Alarm bells are going off in Taylor's head. Distantly she remembers crying over this boy, singing angry songs. But it's been a long time. They've both grown up. He's one of her best friends and even if it isn't forever and always, Taylor wants this too.

"Me too," she admits.

Their second second kiss is a little deeper, less tentative and more passionate.

It takes Joe and Taylor a few minutes to realize that other people are using this hallway, and they pull away from each other reluctantly.

Taylor is leaving from here to start her tour in Las Vegas.

"I'll call," Joe says, as Taylor reluctantly starts to walk away.

She chuckles at him.

"No. Really," Joe squeezes Taylor's hand. He looks vulnerable and serious. "I'll call you, Taylor. Promise."

She ducks her head, nods. This time, Taylor isn't going to get carried away. She isn't going to get her hopes up.

"Talk to you later, Joe."

*

Joe calls the next morning.

"Hey," Taylor answers the phone, a little surprised at how her voice has gone all soft and affectionate. It's just Joe. He's not even her boyfriend. Maybe.

"Hey," his voice is just as fond. "Um. So. You're my friend too, right? Not just my girlfriend."

If Taylor does an excited little dance, no one is there to see it.

"What's up, Joe?"

"So, um, Demi was at the thing last night," he explains.

Taylor is pretty sure she knew that. Or knew that Demi was supposed to go. She's pretty sure that's one of the reasons Joe had been so nervous leading up to their performance. She hadn't said anything to Joe, hadn't wanted to acknowledge it.

"I'm pretty sure I knew that."

"Well, she's kind of angry." Taylor can tell Joe is biting his lips. "She's going all over the place talking about how us kissing was a publicity stunt, or me trying to make her jealous."

That seems like the kind of thing an angry ex-girlfriend would do. Taylor would know. And seeing them up there, that had to hurt, even Demi after doing what she did.

"That isn't totally surprising," Taylor says gently.

Joe laughs. "Right? Still. I wanted to give you the heads-up. You're probably going to get some calls."

Taylor has been getting calls since before she and Joe parted ways last night. She hasn't dealt with them yet.

"Speaking of getting calls, I know we kissed on national television and everything," Taylor acknowledges, "but I think as much as possible I'd like to keep this between us. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah. Yes. Taylor, that's perfect." Joe sounds relieved and it makes Taylor happy to be the reason for it.

"So," she asks shyly, "how are you?"

*

They talk almost every day. Because they want to talk to each other, not because there's any obligation or because they're trying to hold something together. Sometimes they don't get a chance to talk or text and Taylor misses Joe, but not excessively.

Joe tries. Too hard. He treats her like a princess, surprises her with flowers and jewelry and visits. Taylor knows he's using Fearless as a guide to how to woo her. She wishes it were easier, effortless, but it's not, she's not a princess and this isn't a fairytale and the fact that Joe is trying to make it one makes the gestures that much sweeter.

A month into their new relationship, Joe emails her a block of text. It's lyrics, a song about second chances, rabbits feet and horseshoes, four-leaf clovers and starting over.

 _Send me a demo?_ Taylor texts him.

The song is for her, Taylor knows that. Joe wrote it for her, and he has no use for a country-pop song. Still, the rough demo is the most perfect beautiful thing Taylor has ever heard. It makes her sad that no one else will ever hear it, though she's glad she doesn't have to share.

 _Listening to my favorite artist sing my favorite song_ Taylor tweets. Joe replies to her with one of his detailed emoticons. It makes Taylor smirk to think of how their fans are reacting.

*

When Taylor is home in Tennessee for a show, she goes to her hairdresser and gets her hair cut to above her shoulders. She texts Joe a picture.

 _You're beautiful however long you're hair is_ , he replies. Which is a sweet, diplomatic, grammatically flawed response that doesn't tell her anything.

She responds, _:P_

His corresponding emotion involves what are possibly freckles and maybe legs.

*

Gossip bloggers have a field day with Taylor's haircut. They all think she's changing herself for Joe, being unhealthy, obsessed with their relationship. It's silly and blown way out of proportion.

Taylor's manager wants her to sit down with People magazine and give an interview, but Taylor and Joe agreed about keeping things private.

Instead, Joe, Taylor, and their respective managements come to an agreement. "Osmond" is being released as a one-off live recording, so Joe meets up with Taylor in New York. They're doing a little bit of press, but mostly it's just an excuse to spend time together.

*

"So Taylor," the MTV interviewer asks, after she and Joe have answered questions and sold "Osmond" pretty hard, "you recently cut your hair. There's been a lot of speculation as to why."

Taylor runs her hand over her hair. Joe laughs.

"I don't really understand the commotion, honestly" she tells the interviewer. "It's summer, it was hot, it had been a long time since I'd changed my look."

The interviewer drops it.

"Along with 'Osmond', both of you have released several singles lately and had great success with them. Is there a reason both of you have done this instead of waiting to put them on albums?"

"I think albums might be kind of antiquated," Taylor says, "with modern technology you can release quality projects without very much lag time and songwriting can be a lot more relevent and specific."

Joe nods.

"Also, in Taylor and I's case," he looks over at her. "Can I say this?"

He wants to tell the world that they've been writing together, Taylor knows. It's fine with her, she wants to shout about it from the rooftops, how well they work together. "Go for it."

"Awesome." Joe turns back to the interviewer. "We've been writing a lot together, in each other's styles, so the songs we've released lately wouldn't necessarily all make sense on the same album."

"Now that I know that, Taylor I can definitely hear your handiwork in 'I Don't Know'. And I'm guessing you got some feedback from Joe on 'Second Chance'?"

Taylor shakes her head. She wants the world to know that Joe wrote such a magnificent song, but she's not sure he wants the world to know. She glances over at him. Joe ducks his head and shrugs. Taylor loves how shy Joe is about his songwriting abilities.

"I actually didn't write any of 'Second Chance'," Taylor admits, nudging Joe's shoulder.

*

After the long day of press, when Taylor's throat aches from talking about herself, she suggests she and Joe grab a couple of slices of pizza and go crash in her hotel room.

Joe has other plans.

The hotel room has a small kitchenette, and while Taylor watches some terrible movie on HBO Joe makes her dinner.

It's sweet but real. Taylor doesn't feel like a princess, just like a girl who likes a boy who likes to cook. It's maybe what she's been striving for all along.

When they're done with dinner, curled up on Taylor's bed, it starts to rain outside.

Joe pulls her up and drags her outside. It's summer, but 11 o'clock at night and the rain isn't exactly warm.

They waltz up and down the sidewalk shivering, teeth chattering, until Joe finally relents and lets them go back in.

"You write about dancing in the rain a lot," Joe says when they're pressed together, dripping on the elevator floor. "How was it?"

"Cold," Taylor laughs, scooting closer into his warmth.

They hurry out of the elevator when it reaches her floor, and go quickly into Taylor's room.

Joe retrieves a pile of white towels from the bathroom and wraps one around Taylor's shoulders, rubbing vigorously at her arms as water trickles down his face and drips off the end of his nose.

When Taylor was a teenager, she envisioned dancing in the summer rain with a tall dark good ole boy. It was romantic and she'd never given a thought to wet cotton and blue lips. Now that she's here, a little older and wiser, the boy willing to dance in the rain with her a little bit shorter than she'd pictured, she knows she'd been dreaming about the wrong part.

Taylor leans forward and kisses him. Under her mouth, Joe's cold lips soften into a grin.


End file.
